Christmas Seduction
by PrettyPleaseWithSugarOnTop
Summary: Rangiku Matsumoto has never expected much from her life. This year's Christmas, however, is about to be much more... sensual that she would ever think... Younger!Rangiku. GinRan. AU.


Fourteen- year-old Rangiku Matsumoto peered interestedly out of the murky windowpanes into the pure white snow drifting outside. People dressed in flickering cloaks bustled down the streets briskly, paying no attention to the small foster home that Rangiku was currently peering out of. Bits of milky snow splattered the foul sidewalk, only to be crunched on every now and then by the thick boots of an impatient passer-by. Moonlight illuminated the pavement, and the yellow glow of the surrounding lamps mixed the pale light into a spectacular swirl of light colours.

The girl's cheeks were flushed with the cold despite being in the (slightly) warmer interior of her home, her thin knuckles clutching the windowsill. Honey curls danced across her pale forehead like a halo- her blue eyes extraordinarily large for her rounded, heart-shaped face. She was dressed in an overlong coat and a pair of tiny dark shorts. Despite the fact that she was approaching the age of a teenager, the child was exceptionally small in stature.

"Rangiku," A woman's voice rang out pleadingly. "It is late, and you should sleep."

The girl let go of the windowsill obediently and turned to her foster mother, who stood before her. There was no beauty in the older woman's face, but something about the haggard features struck distinction. She reached out, taking her foster daughter's small hand in hers.

"You shouldn't have eaten the cookies yesterday night," she murmured. "You know the cookies and milk are left on the table for Santa, not for your own consumption."

Rangiku bit her lip. "I didn't eat them."

"They were missing this morning-"

"Santa," She murmured, through a small pale tired mouth, "must have eaten them, as he should."

Heavy footsteps abruptly thundered from the long spiral stairs above, and a look of fear fleeted past the woman's face. Her fingers tightened over the lass's hand, whose owner remained placid and almost lifeless in contrast.

The towering length of a large man appeared down the last steps of the stairs, his thick black beard flicking across the broad expanse of his chest and his beefy arms swinging authoritatively. It was his eyes though- that sent terror throughout people. Cold, merciless orbs beneath bushy brows.

"I told you," he spoke, loud voice echoing frostily throughout the hush of the drawing room, "not to entertain _that _girl last night. Santa Claus indeed- leaving cookies out… How _childish_-" He spat out his words in condescending disdain.

Rangiku stated calmly, despite the fact that her foster father had not even addressed her directly, "I didn't eat those biscuits."

Her words were like a catalyst setting off an already ticking bomb. The man's head jerked, his skin creasing as his thin lips pulled back into a snarl. Throughout his thick beard, Rangiku thought vaguely, those thin lips were cold and nasty.

"You lying, disgusting little girl," he hissed, "We fork out money to feed you and clothe you, with the little amount we have, and yesterday night we even kindly decide to entertain your silly delusions and pull out valuable food- and you choose to eat every single piece of the oat, every single one of them, not just from the table but also the larder-"

"I didn't eat it!" Rangiku insisted, ignoring her mother's taut hands over her palms. "Santa must have-"

"_Santa!"_ Her foster father threw back his head and laughed bitterly, mockingly. The eyes flashed. "Santa, the big jolly man, ransacked our larder, ate all our oat biscuits and went back up the chimney! That totally makes sense!"

The large, calloused hand shot out so suddenly that no one expected it; Rangiku's delicate head whipped back at the reeling impact of the blow. Her foster mother let out a terrified, startled cry as she clutched her child's shaking frame. Already an unruly bruise was beginning to form on the side of the small girl's pale creamy cheek. A trail of blood peeked from her tiny nose. She was breathing heavily- lips trembling, blonde curls askew, but there was no fear in her face, just stark weariness-

The man withdrew his hand, looking grimly satisfied at the blow he had struck his daughter. There was no mistaking the terrible lack of affection in his ruthless eyes. He took one step towards his tiny foster daughter- who never, ever flinched- and exhaled a breath that was pure menace.

"There is no Santa Claus," he said, "In this world, there are only thieves and ingrates- like you."

* * *

She awoke to the mild sound of crunching.

Rangiku had been sleeping restlessly beneath the tattered bed sheets on her bunk, her fists fastened over her pillow and her honey curls rolling with abandon over her delicately closed eyelids as she dreamt fitfully of snow, _skies_ and the sound of merry laughter-

Blue eyes opened abruptly, but her expression did not look startled at all. Sedately she loosened her fingers from the thin material of the pillow, and sat up. The bunk creaked from beneath her slight weight, and she blinked at a shaft of moonlight that crept through her window, illuminating the thin planes of her face.

The slight noise of vague crunching echoed the air once more.

Rangiku turned her head, and the first thing that crossed her calm mind was:

_Where did that thick velvet armchair come from?_

She certainly didn't remember any armchairs ever being in her bedroom. But hey presto, here was a large one in the centre of her room, in all its darkly crimson shade and vast size. It was as if it had been there all the time. The girl blinked; but she was not frightened. Not of the mysterious armchair at least.

_Crunch._

The being in the chair, however, was another thing entirely.

She stared at the shock of silky white hair that gleamed in the dimness of her room. It seemed to glow like a halo above the armchair, almost like the angels of Christmas. A long slender hand, raised at the side of the thick chair and gloved in red velvet, dangled a half-bitten cookie from spidery gloved fingers.

And then Rangiku was aware of _eyes;_ as if they had just opened for the first time in the inky darkness- beautiful slanted blue eyes the colour of skies in her dreams just a few minutes ago, eyes that were icy and warm at the same time, eyes that gleamed at her from the chair. And those exquisite azure eyes, framed by sooty long lashes, belonged to a face- a frightfully youthful, angular serene face with pale lips curved upwards into a Cheshire Cat's smile.

But the Cheshire Cat was a myth- just like Santa Claus…

Despite knowing that, Rangiku opened her mouth and spoke, without the slightest trace of fear. "You ransacked our larder yesterday."

There was no accusation in her voice, no reproach, just a simple statement.

The being's smile widened, the feline lips curved in amusement. Brilliant, slit azure pupils flashed like crystal blue beneath his thick flickering lashes. For the first time Rangiku noticed dark laced boots casually hanging off one arm of the chair, followed by long sinuous black-clad legs.

"You were only supposed to eat from the table," The blonde-haired child said mildly, as if she was talking about the weather. "Taking everything from the larder is a no-no."

The male in the armchair slowly brought the half-eaten cookie to his still smiling lips, and Rangiku watched; for an unknown reason absolutely entranced by every movement her night visitor made. The mouth opened, revealing a sharp row of ivory teeth before they closed over the cookie's brown surface.

_Crunch._

Rangiku flushed suddenly, not knowing why.

Her guest's slanted blue eyes continued staring at her with casual interest while he chewed thoughtfully on his cookie. Pure silver-white strands of glossy hair slid over his straight forehead as he tilted his head to one side, almost like the new angle allowed him to observe Rangiku better. Then he spoke, voice flowing out in a long, rich drawl.

"Rangiku Matsumoto." The name rolled off the stranger's tongue in a slow, languorous caress, and something about the affectionate lilt of his deep voice reminded Rangiku of the merry tinkling of bells. "Do ya resent me for eatin' this?"

The statement was accompanied by a sensual lick of his lips, long tongue curling out fleetingly and sweeping the residue cookie crumbs back into his mouth.

"No," Rangiku said bluntly, trying to ignore the fact that her knees had gone slightly weak. "I don't resent you for anything."

The stranger continued smiling, the exotic blue in his narrowed eyes so very bright in the room. He raised his scarlet gloved hand, the one that was not holding the cookie, and beckoned Rangiku over with a swift, graceful flick of his adroit fingers.

Rangiku walked forward like a moth to a light; there was absolutely nothing in the world that would have stopped her from approaching the night stranger.

Before long she stood right before the plush armchair, her doe eyes timidly probing the sharp, aristocratic cheekbones of the white-haired male's face, his pearl smooth skin, the angular patrician bone structure and finally the teasing slant of his brilliant blue cat-like eyes. He looked so very young and so very old at the same time. Physically perhaps, he appeared in his early twenties. Realizing she was staring, Rangiku's gaze bashfully lowered, and saw what she could not properly see before- the man was dressed in a long dark red cloak the same colour as the armchair, allowing him to easily blend in into his seat. The scent of fresh tree leaves and pine drifted to her olfactory senses.

Her eyes widened when a slender pianist's hand reached out and touched her chin, gently bringing her face up. The man hummed, deep mocking voice in perfect cadence with the whisper of the wind, cookie still dangling from his other hand. "Ya would allow me 'ta have more of yer baking delights?"

"…No." Rangiku finally said honestly. It was with difficulty trying to maintain her composure when the watchful sapphire eyes were gazing at her. And yet she could not lie; for she was certain that if she did, the shrewd cat eyes would see through her soul as easily as one reading a book. "My family needs to eat as well. We are often hungry."

For the first time since his appearance a fleeting look of displeasure crossed the male's striking features. Rangiku stilled at once, fearing whether she had offended her intruder. And yet she was not really afraid of him- despite knowing he had the potential to be dangerous. The silver-haired man's face was now blank and unfathomable- before the sides of his sculpted lips abruptly curled again.

"What a filial girl ya are," he commented sardonically, and something about the way his mesmerizing eyes mockingly danced made Rangiku uncomfortable. "Are ya saying yer family is more important than me, _hm_?"

"No." Even Rangiku's answer surprised herself. "But my family is hungry. You are not."

Concerning her unexpected feelings for the stranger- she could not explain, but she knew. The tall male before her was a creature from the usually placid girl's daydreams and joys, the representative of the laughter in her dreams, the warm fires building in fireplaces, the pure flecks of beautiful snow twirling in the air like white fairies, the reassuring skies- and more.

The night visitor's sapphire eyes darkened, but not with anger- rather, a curious intensity that Rangiku could not decipher. His slim gloved hand, which was still curled on her chin, gently brought her closer, allowing the female to see every outline of his obsidian lashes.

"On the contrary," he breathed huskily, as the blue of skies met timid doe eyes, "I am _very_ hungry."

Rangiku swallowed audibly, her cheeks flushing, but she did not back away. Not that she could, even though the man's grasp on her chin was feather light and it was more than easy for her to do so. But the stranger –or was he really a stranger?- did not require physical means to keep Rangiku in place, for his alluring gaze and hypnotic musical voice enraptured her in the way children were dazzled by colourful Christmas lights.

Not that Rangiku had to worry about it, for the next second her intruder had released her. The tall, slender guest smiled; an enigmatic smile that made her unconsciously wonder- wonder how laughter was created, how tears fell and how things like hatred and affection could possibly be different when they were in fact, very much the same- before reaching out the same gloved hand towards the honey blonde-haired girl.

"Won't ya take it off for me?" He inquired beseechingly, heart-stirring baritone flowing out like melodious low notes in the quietness of the night. Rangiku did not have to ask what he was referring to; she simply knew.

Quietly the small girl tugged off the red glove with cautious diminutive fingers; something about the velvety texture made her shiver. In a few seconds, the scarlet material fell away to reveal a large slender pale hand, with long artistic white-nailed fingers. Rangiku stared, entranced by the simple yet beautiful appendage.

Said bare hand rose and gently, ever so gently, caressed the side of her blushing, creamy cheek; fingers tracing tenderly the ugly dark smear on her milky skin. Rangiku shivered, unable to stop herself at the warm, almost loving touch.

"Who did this to ya?" The older male drawled; his slanted eyes suddenly very sharp.

"No one," Rangiku whispered.

Her companion leaned forward, so that his gossamer stands of silvery hair touched her flaming cheeks, and his sculpted lips ghosted across her ear. "Such a liar ya are," he whispered in reply, hot mouth curved, "So very naughty. It seems someone won't be receiving presents fer Christmas."

Rangiku said breathily, partly in a way to distract herself, "So you _are_ Santa."

The male drew slightly back, looking almost bored. "Santa, The Devil, the Easter Bunny- what's the difference? In the end, I am simply who humans want or fear me to be."

Without waiting for a response the man continued caressing Rangiku's cheeks with pensive strokes, before weaving nimble white-nailed fingers into her silky orange-gold curls. "So very beautiful," he murmured thoughtfully, almost reverently. Rangiku began to understand, against her will, why the mysterious visitor had wanted his glove removed. For some reason, they were both equally fascinated with each other. "And so very thin you are."

The young female blinked in surprise when the half-cookie was suddenly presented to her small petal lips. "Eat, little one."

Large doe eyes widened as she stared at the remains of the offered biscuit, slightly jagged from where the older male had previously bitten into it. _From where the older male had previously bitten into it…_

Without further hesitation she bit eagerly into the cookie as well, somewhat shocked that it was still warm and crispy, as if it had just come out of the oven. The cookies hadn't even been like that in the larder- it was impossible. She chewed vigorously, trying not to flush further at the probing azure gaze on her. Fresh brown crumbs sprinkled out along the sides of her neck and the collar of her shirt.

"Should I clean ya?" Her companion purred predatorily, thin lips curved tantalizingly and his inky overlong lashes half-lidded. His long dexterous fingers gripped Rangiku's chin in a tight grasp this time, making sure that the miniature female faced him. "Will ya allow me to sate _my_ hunger? Answer me, Rangiku Matsumoto."

Rangiku gazed, her heart pounding madly, into the slanted exotic cobalt eyes. "Yes."

With a single sweep of the mysterious male's arms he had brought Rangiku's much smaller frame onto his lap, dark red cloak wrapped around both of them in a protective embrace. And then, in less than a heartbeat, his mouth had descended onto the slender column of the girl's neck, gently suckling the residue crumbs from the delicate alabaster flesh. The half-eaten cookie fell onto the floor.

Rangiku moaned lightly, unable to control herself. The heated mouth traversed up along her neck, long velvety feline tongue deliciously raking up the remaining crumbs along her now swelling skin and advertently firing up the girl's nerves all at once. Unconsciously Rangiku buried her tiny hands into the exquisite silver-white mane of hair, wanting, _needing, _to touch the male that held her. A low, deep sultry chuckle rumbled from the intruder's throat, the sound reverberating up along Rangiku's side from where she was pressed to the wall of taut sleek abdominal muscles, making her shake uncontrollably.

The flawless lips of the man slid up her small jaw, sharp teeth teasingly grazing her skin, sending sensual, intoxicating fire burning along her nerves- and out of the blue he paused.

"Tell me, filial child," The Devil, Santa Claus and possibly the Easter Bunny huskily murmured, "Will a lifetime of dealing with my hunger be… _ideal _for ya?"

Rangiku's miniature hands tightened over the luscious ivory locks, her drunken gaze unseeing. She thought of her foster mother, who had tucked her gently to bed every night, who had pleaded her vicious foster father not to throw her out of the house, and who had always treated her as her own child- "Yes."

A wide Cheshire Cat's smile curved the sinfully perfect mouth against her little jaw, the man's eyes gleaming like triumphant blue diamonds. Without hesitation, he slanted his sculpted lips over Rangiku's own awaiting mouth. The girl's large blue eyes seemed to sigh in contentment at once-

A few seconds later, the armchair was gone. It was as if it had never been there, along with the mysterious stranger that had broken in.

And as the empty tattered bed sheets rustled, it was as if Rangiku Matsumoto had also never been there.

* * *

Sunlight filtered into the windows, stirring a couple who lay beneath thick sheets on the bed. They gazed at each other sleepily, the bearded man reaching up to scratch his chin-

He stared. She stared.

They both stared at what was supposed to be his hand- and at the air that had replaced it. Even as they looked on in horror, dark blood dripped from his amputated wrist, sending a gruesome crimson trail along his naked flesh.

The hand, his right hand with which he did almost everything in- including strike his own foster daughter, was gone. It was as if someone had painlessly sliced off that hand in his sleep.

There was nothing painless now.

Even a few miles away, the sounds of terrified screaming could be heard in town.

* * *

**Do R&R and let me know what you guys think! :-) And Gin... has truly the most beautiful eyes in the anime. I wish he'd open them more.**


End file.
